


Christmas Biscuits

by dragyn42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragyn42/pseuds/dragyn42
Summary: It’s the Ministry’s Annual Christmas Ball, and Harry is once more there against his better judgment. Thankfully, his girlfriend is always around to support him.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Christmas Biscuits

**Author's Note:**

> Exchange: smutty_claus 2019  
> To: divagonzo1
> 
> Just wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone who kept this fest running over the many years, as well as their patience with me (I’m clearly incapable of hitting deadlines.) I also wanted to thank divagonzo1 for the wonderful prompts. I admit I was torn; I love a good excuse for H/G/L, but I really wanted end this fest like I started, with H/G. I hope you enjoy what came from it all.

“Why are there twelve dozen Christmas biscuits in my kitchen at 3am? Did I miss an owl?”

“ _Your_ kitchen?” asked Harry with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“You don’t use it.”

“Not my fault. And I’m clearly using it now.”

“Where is the little blighter, anyway?”

A croaking voice appeared from nowhere. “Mistress Ginny is too kind.”

“Oh, for crying out loud. Don’t the two of you start. You are the reason I get a lecture from Hermione at least twice a week on the proper treatment of house elves.”

“You hear that, Kreacher? You’re a horrible elf, constantly getting your master into trouble,” faux-admonished Ginny.

“To my eternal shame, Mistress.”

Ginny grinned at her partner in crime and glanced back at the trays on the counters.

“Think _you_ could tell me why Harry baked twelve dozen biscuits?” she asked.

“Master Harry claimed he couldn’t sleep.”

“So you let him use the kitchen? That’s unlike you.”

“Master Harry made the rare action of ordering Kreacher from his kitchen.”

“Ah. Got it. Thanks, Kreacher. Go back to bed – or whatever it is you do – and I’ll take care of it.”

“Certainly, Mistress.”

The decrepit, yet surprisingly capable elf bowed and disappeared from the room, leaving only the couple in the kitchen. Ginny eyed her boyfriend sympathetically before stepping over to him and wrapping him in her arms.

“The ball tomorrow?”

She could feel his head nod, though he didn’t say anything.

“You could always just say ‘no’.”

There was no response.

“Harry, I’ve told you; Mum has told you; Dad has told you; Bill, Charlie, hell, even George has told you: It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault. People die in battle. They fought for what they believed in, and taking the blame really diminishes that. You should find a way to find something good for them instead of guilt over them.”

Still no response, but at least he wasn’t arguing with her. Baking twelve dozen biscuits apparently had a significant calming effect.

“You sure you’re not going to say ‘no’ and simply not go?” she asked.

This time, she could feel him nodding again.

“Okay, then. We’ll go, you’ll suck it up and be nice, and I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll forget all about how you always fret speaking there.”

He nodded again.

“If you really wanted to shake things up, you could always ask Luna – take one of us on each arm. She still wants a shot at you,” offered Ginny.

Harry actually laughed.

“C’mon, let’s go up, we can warm up for tomorrow,” she said.

Harry finally stepped away from her and said, “Thanks.”

“Always, Harry.”

Hesitating a moment, he looked at the baking trays spread all across the counter tops, but Ginny broke through his concerns, pointing out, “You know the second we leave here, Kreacher will be back. He’ll take care of it all.”

Grabbing his hand, Ginny led Harry from the kitchen, up the stairs, and to the master bedroom that he reluctantly occupied. That she had goaded Kreacher to keep putting Harry’s stuff there ‘as was proper,’ despite Harry’s complaints otherwise, was something Harry certainly never need know.

Pushing him backwards onto the bed, Ginny crawled over him, leaned down and suckled lightly at his neck. She whispered in his ear, “Not your fault,” before kissing his cheek and then initiating a full lip lock with her beloved. But in that moment of admonishment, she could feel him relax under her, and he fully engaged in snogging her back.

She slid her hand down his torso, unbuttoned his trousers, and slipped straight into his boxers, grasping his cock. He moaned into her mouth, and she could feel him grow right in her hand. First soft and fleshy, then very quickly filling her hand with an indecent firmness. She could feel his pulse in her hand, and every movement caused a reaction, a corresponding twitch

Stroking and tugging at him, she could feel him tense up, but it was different than his earlier anxiousness. His breath increased and he stopped kissing her, though it seemed on an instinctual level, he was still trying.

Not lasting long, he froze for a moment, stopped breathing for an instant, and then grunted as she felt his release in her hand. It was, to her, a very intimate moment, knowing she caused it, literally, with her own hand. His ejaculate warm over her wrist, slipping into her grasp, lubricating her grip on him.

It was over quickly. Harry’s whole body relaxed, deflating like a balloon, and he managed, against his lethargy, to kiss Ginny and mumble a thanks. Ginny slid off of him, and he rolled to his side, curling up, and she, too rolled, spooning him from behind.

“I love you, Harry,” she whispered.

~ * ~

“I still think we should have asked Luna,” said Ginny, stunning in her ball gown, the slit up the side revealing an obscene amount of pale, perfect leg. Her arm was hooked through Harry’s as he escorted her into the main ministry ballroom.

The room itself was decked to the nines, as it always was for their main, annual events: Christmas, New Years, and Victory Day. Harry was expected at all of them (Ginny really wished he would learn to say no), and he was trotted out as their savior, the reason they won. Everyone spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to cozy up to him, to say they were friends, and all the while they would ignore his obvious discomfort. And it was up to Ginny to keep his mind off all the people that kept running through his head.

“Right, that would work well,” said Harry, grinning. “She’d find nargles or something hiding in the corners, and the next thing any of us knew, she would manage one hour delivery of an erumpent in a bow tie.”

“Yeah, but then it would rampage around the room and no one would pay you any attention. See, it would be a great idea!”

Making their way to their table near the dais was predictably obnoxious as everyone anywhere close to their path through the room felt the need to stop them and interact with Harry. Ginny smirked each time his arm tensed under her hand, which always coincided with some man (or the occasional woman) staring at her while talking with Harry. Wizards and witches were not the most subtle of people.

Sitting, Harry looked around the table. Several other ‘dignitaries’ that the Ministry believed warranted the spotlight shared a table with him. Several looked quite proud of themselves that they were important enough to be included at Harry Potter’s table, while others seemed quite confused at sharing his table, not to mention awestruck at the same.

“Why am I here, again?” he whispered to Ginny.

“Because you’re too damn noble and feel you owe it to those who lost people in the war to be here?” she answered. “I keep telling you to say no.”

“I can’t do that,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered back.

The couple had learned at events prior that if they kept whispering to each other, most people wouldn’t intrude on their conversation.

Ginny glanced at the center of their table and grabbed a biscuit from the basket in the middle; she hadn’t actually eaten much of anything since lunch, and that had been hours ago. It was relatively dry and tasteless, seemingly sucking all the saliva from her.

After gulping down some water from a goblet to rehydrate her mouth, she whispered to Harry, “Ugh. Your biscuits are so much better. We should have brought some.”

Receiving a sardonic stare from him, she defended herself, “What? It’s not like we don’t have plenty. We probably could have catered all these tables from your bender last night? How much is Kingsley paying the caterers? Whatever it is, it’s too much.”

Harry snorted and attempted to cover it up by grabbing his own water goblet, playing it off as a momentary cough.

“Smooth,” said Ginny teasingly.

“Wench,” he whispered in her ear.

“No. Witch,” she responded, just as quietly, before nibbling discretely on his ear. Many public events had taught Ginny two things: first, to always wear her hair down and loose, and second, to use her hair to hide their public indiscretions. The last thing Harry needed was the two of them splashed across the front page of the Prophet making out.

“I… er…” his breath hitched. “Pretty sure I was right the first time.”

Further activities or discussion were waylaid when the serving staff came by and began placing down the soup. This was the signal for others who were standing around talking or snacking on the sparse the appetizers to take their seats.

The soup (somehow both salty and bland, like they were told to add salt to enhance flavor, but forgot to add flavor) was followed by a simple salad and unseasoned, roasted vegetables, and the staff also began pouring wine. After the salad was the main course. Harry had a reasonably good medium-well steak (despite having ordered it medium-rare), and Ginny was satisfied with her fish. While they were eating, it was then that Kingsley stood, walked to the lectern, and began his yearly holiday speech. He spoke of the holidays as a time of coming together. He gave homage to Her Majesty the Queen, and his annual appeal for the fellowship that was so prevalent during the holidays to not disappear, but draw them together year round.

He reminded everyone what happened when their society was fractured, when people hid in fear, or worse, apathy, and how evil flourished when good people did nothing. And that, though they overcame that evil, it was only by those working together that it was accomplished.

“There is nothing we can’t do if we stand together,” he finished.

“And, though I know he hates it, and his girlfriend will, in all likelihood, let me know her displeasure at a later date,” Kingsley said to chuckles around the ballroom. “I now ask that the man who defeated Voldemort, who fought for and freed all of us, the one whom the papers call The Chosen One, Harry Potter, to please step up and give us a few words.”

There was applause around the room, and Harry took a moment to bury his face in Ginny’s neck, seemingly hoping to hide from the limelight. His actions caused some more laughter around the room – his feelings on public speaking well known to the public – and she patted his shoulder in commiseration. He nipped at her neck before pulling away from her, and she hid her surprise, and brief excitement, by shoving him toward the lectern.

Harry stood, hands lightly gripping the edge of the platform, staring around the room, and Ginny was sure she was the only one who truly understood how upsetting this was to him. But, when he finally started speaking, even she was surprised.

“Every time I’m called upon to stand up here and talk, I usually say the same things. I talked in great detail about the evils Tom – Voldemort to the public – inflicted upon my life, and that for every one of me, there were most certainly others, less famous, that were more affected. I talked about those close to me who we lost because of Tom: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Colin Creevey… my parents. And then I make an appeal to remember what we fought for. To not let those deaths be in vain.

“But, I think today, this evening, I’m going to make a different commentary.

“This is the season of giving. So, instead of wallowing in the thoughts of those who gave their lives for us, I offer this: let us all give in their memories. At this very moment, my house elf is delivering Christmas biscuits that I made myself, last night, to the Hedwig Home for Lost and Displaced Young Witches and Wizards. With this donation, I hope to inspire all of you, all of us, to give, and to keep giving. That we, as a community, support those without. That our spirit of giving prevents another Tom Riddle, cast out and lost.

“Together, we can ensure that our world is not ripped apart by hatred and fear, but drawn together in happiness and support.”

He stopped, seemingly unsure of what, if anything, he should say next, when the applause started. Somewhere in the middle of the room came a clap, followed by another from elsewhere, until moments later the entire room was applauding thunderously. Whatever was let of their food was momentarily forgotten as they all stood.

Harry, ever unsure of himself in the spotlight, smiled at the audience before stepping away from the platform and turning to shake hands with a widely grinning Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“You did well, Harry,” was all he said.

Once back at the table with Ginny, she rubbed her legs together, thoroughly excited by Harry’s speech, and the actions they described.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked him.

“Well,” he started. “I really did bake just to distract myself. I dunno, you would think that I would hate the kitchen given what my aunt put me through, but somehow I do find it relaxing – once I can get Kreacher out of my hair. (The kitchen is for women and elves my bloody arse.) It wasn’t until this morning that I realized what good I could do with it all.”

“I’m proud of you, Harry.” She smiled at Harry and leaned in close. “I’d like to show you how much.”

She grabbed his hand and gave a gentle tug to stand, “I think I can help you find a better dessert than they might serve.”

“Given the meal so far, that doesn’t seem hard,” he commented.

“But are you?” she asked.

He met her eyes, replying, “I wasn’t, but I’m getting there,” and finally took her lead and stood from the table.

~ * ~

“Really? Behind the curtain?”

“Why not?” asked Ginny. “It’s close.”

“It’s one hundred feet and one curtain away from two hundred witches and wizards, any number of whom would like to see either of us… compromised.”

“So? We’ll just have to be quiet.”

She knew his mind was made up, he just hadn’t figured it out yet. His green eyes sparkled as he looked between her, the curtain covered window, and the double set of open double doors beyond which were Wizarding Britain’s elite, then back to her again. He was fixated now, her long, pale leg sticking from the slit in her dress, and the way the top hugged her chest.

Oh, yes. His mind was made up.

He stepped in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her head towards his for a deep, passionate kiss. She had no problems reciprocating. She loved the intensity of Harry’s desire for her, and felt it even more as his fingers wove into her long, red hair and pulled at her scalp. The sharp pressure flamed the excitement she began feeling when her beloved announced what he had done, and they were way too out in the open for what she clearly wanted, now.

Placing her hands on his chest, but not breaking their snogging session, she gave a slight shove and began walking forward. Harry, lost in her, still seemed to get the message and stepped backwards. By adjusting the pressure of her right and left hands, Ginny was easily able to steer Harry towards the blackout window curtain, falling the whole way to the floor, they had identified just a moment ago.

The curtain was now just behind Harry, and all she had to do was reach over, snag the edge, and wrap it around them. Two more steps and they were completely hidden from view. The window was a charm, a projection of an outside sky, because even with magic, it was difficult to put a window on an underground building and show the sky. And, the sky was night, now, anyhow.

So, under the fake light of the stars, in their small, private space, Ginny succumbed to her desires and returned Harry’s kisses with equal intensity. She always had a thing for _being_ with Harry in public – but it wasn’t a public thing, it was only Harry. Her hands, no longer steering ‘The Chosen One’, were free to once again roam, and she took great pleasure quickly sliding them through the opening in the front of his dress robes.

Once inside, she slid her hands down his back, over his dress blouse, and under the waist of his trousers and boxers. Grabbing his arse firmly in hand, she felt his reaction both by what was now poking her through his clothes from the front, and by the sudden yank on her hair, which he had yet to stop grasping. (One of his repeated mantras was how much he loved her hair. And she loved him loving her hair, especially like this.)

In a practiced move (though not nearly practiced enough, in her opinion), she began untucking his shirt, from back to front. His reaction, though, was to move away from kissing her mouth and instead to kiss up her jaw, pulling the two of them closer, so that he could nibble on her ear. Her knees nearly buckled under her, but she managed to keep upright by spinning the two of them and backing up to the wall-window.

“Uggh,” she moaned. “Not fair.”

Harry’s response was another light tug on her hair and a harder nibble directly on her earlobe, clearly licking it as he did so. If Ginny had been slightly excited at Harry’s speech, now she was completely aroused, and her thighs were clearly feeling the effect.

“Ha… Harry,” she said. “M… More. I want more. Now.”

Darnit, this was not what she planned. She wanted to be the one gifting this to Harry. But he knew her too well, and now had her panting, needing it.

“Good,” he whispered in her ear. “Me too.”

He released his handhold on her hair and slid his hands down her sides, their warmth pressing and sliding the silky material over her skin. Harry was about to find out her evening secret.

Reaching her hips, his one hand now had ready access to her leg, and as he caressed her smooth skin, exciting her further, he muttered into her ear, “I didn’t feel any…”

He knew.

His hand slid over the top of her thigh, into the slit on her dress, pushing it aside. His finger tickled at the inside of her thigh and just grazed through the light wetness trickling down there.

He moaned in her ear.

She moaned in return.

His fingers danced up her skin, to where her legs met, and instantly had free access. There was nothing in the way.

“Naughty girl,” he said.

“Only for you,” she responded. “Please? More?”

Suddenly, but expectedly, his fingers ran through her, glancing over her waiting opening, while the pad of his thumb pressed against her, pushing into her sensitive clit.

More began to trickle down her legs.

While he accomplished that, his other hand was not idle. Quickly and effortlessly, he undid his belt and trouser buttons, letting them fall to the floor at his feet, his pants quickly following. That hand then moved to the small of her back, pulling their bodies close, while he inched forward, pressing her to the wall.

Soon, his fingers left her, but she could feel him rooting around. Her dress moved, sliding partially up over her hips, while the front opened like a panel, making her now completely accessible to him. Which was exactly what he wanted.

She could feel his cock prodding her now. Skin on sensitive skin, Harry pushed, slowly. She felt the familiar sensation of stretching to accommodate him. He was now in her, her wetness allowing him easy entry, inch by sensual inch.

“Oh, Harry. Please, not slow. Just… just… please,” Ginny begged. In her excitement, she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted, but it was Harry, and it was more.

Granting her wish, Harry pushed the rest of the way into her, filling her in all the right, perfect ways. Unable to help herself, she moaned, slightly more loudly than before.

And then Harry was off. He drove himself in and out of her with intensity. Every slam into her shoved her into the wall, and ignited a fire as he struck her clit. His hand, still wet, slammed next to her head as he balanced himself on the wall, and then plunged into her with even greater ferocity.

Ginny tried to be quiet. While being in public with Harry excited her, she really didn’t want everyone to know it. But there was a noise in her ears, and it didn’t all sound like Harry. She tried to hold back, but everything was building in her and she was pretty sure she may have squealed in Harry’s ear.

Another reason she loved being with Harry was that they each got off on getting each other off. So, despite how far she was, how much more she wanted, how much longer she desired to go, she knew it was time when Harry grunted. He slammed into her several more times, grinding against her, when she then felt him expand inside of her. His hips pumped into hers in time with his throbbing, and she knew he was emptying himself deep inside of her.

And that set her off. Knowing he was finishing with her, she was excited at the mere thought. They were together. And she jumped all way to explosion. Her muscles tightened up, squeezing Harry both inside and out. She momentarily found herself unable to breathe. And then, running high on being with Harry, she let loose a high-pitched release of sound from her throat before gulping down air.

The stood like that for several moments – possibly even several minutes, though she was a bit hazy. Harry leaned into her, using his hand, still on her back, to keep her pressed to him, and the wall to keep them both upright.

Eventually, though, he slipped out of her, leaving her happy, but wanting. He quickly produced a pocket square and reached down to pat the both of them dry – or, as dry as she could be. She was starting to second guess not bringing her knickers with her.

“I think we should get back to the party before we’re missed,” he said quietly to her.

“Probably,” she agreed.

He leaned in to kiss her, which kept them there for a while longer, before he finally, reluctantly, stepped away from her. He pulled his pants and trousers back up, tucking in the blasted formal blouse. He did up his belt, and his buttons, and pulled straight his robes.

Ginny, likewise, gave a tug on her dress, pulling it back down and into position, making sure the alignment was right on her leg.

They patted each other down, taking care of the more overt wrinkles they could make out on each other, before kissing a last time, then stepping unobtrusively out from behind their privacy curtain – only to stop breathing at seeing someone right there. The back of a head of decidedly recognizable blond hair and a killer body in a dazzling green and white dress was leaning non-nonchalantly on a display table exhibiting a series of ancient wands from other cultures.

“You know,” said the woman, not even turning around, “These heavy curtain baffle a lot of sound. If someone were to make just a little bit of noise behind them, they’d probably muffle it. But louder noises are still audible, at least if the room is quiet and someone walked too close.”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other and turned a dazzling shade of red before laughing aloud.

“I’m wondering if I get a chance behind the curtains, too?” Luna asked, now facing them.

“Luna!” cried out Ginny, only half surprised, while Harry’s mouth dropped open.

“I would prefer, Harry, of course. But you would do, too, Ginny, if you’re not too worn out.”

Now Ginny’s mouth dropped open while Harry just snickered.

“Uh, Luna, do you think maybe it might be noticed if one or both of us were gone from the front tables for too long?” asked Harry, hoping Luna got the message.

“That’s a good point,” she said, not seeming too disappointed. “Ah well, I guess another time then.”

“Thank you, Luna,” said Ginny, then reiterated, “Seriously, thanks. I didn’t think we were, uh, going to be that loud.”

“It was nothing, really,” Luna said, smiling that ethereal smile of hers (that, if Ginny were being honest, was actually kinda sexy). Walking back into the ballroom, Luna commented, “Now you’ll just owe me one. Maybe I’ll ask Kreacher to mark it off on the next Ministry event so you don’t forget.

“Oh! I think see nargles over in that corner!”

And with that, Luna disappeared into the now dancing crowd of the ball.


End file.
